


The sun and the stag

by Alyssa_Allyrion



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: AU, Elia Martell-centric, F/M, Robert dies in 279
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-08-23 22:18:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16627460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alyssa_Allyrion/pseuds/Alyssa_Allyrion
Summary: Elia Martell marries Stannis Baratheon who had recently succeeded his late brother and became the lord of Storm's end.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Could not resist writing this AU after writing [ “The Sun” ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16622753). I regret nothing.
> 
> N.B: Stannis and Robert were born in the same year in this fic - 262 (262 was definitely not Cassana Estermont's favorite year).

**279 AC**

The news of Robert’s death took Storm’s End by surprise. It was hard for many to believe that their loud, boisterous, strong and fearless lord had suddenly perished so far away from home. Upon learning the manner of Robert’s death, however, Stannis found himself hardly surprised by what occurred. According to the letter from Eddard Stark Robert came too close to the edge of the cliff and accidentally tripped, falling to his death. 

_Of course,_ Stannis thought rather bitterly. It was almost not surprising that his brother would accidentally slip, after all Robert was never careful about anything in his life. Everyone knew how treacherous the hills and mountains in the Vale can be, but Robert probably had not even consider it a possibility that he could fall from a cliff. _I would not be the least bit surprised if he did not even look to where he was walking. After all, he could have been too deep in his cups to even see straight._ Stannis scowled at the thought. 

Nonetheless, looking at Renly crying in the crib, Stannis felt pain – and helplessness. Just two years ago there were five of them – and now just he and Renly were left.

He supposed he should have cried for his brother, but Stannis did not have any tears left. _Not after watching the wind throw our parents’ ship at the stones of the Shipwreck Bay._

As upset as everyone in the Storm’s End was over Robert’s death, it did not have any palpable effect on the castle’s day-to-day life. Robert had spent most of his time in the recent years at the Eyrie, where he was being fostered, so it often fell to Stannis to rule the castle. Formally becoming the Lord of Storm’s end did precious little to change Stannis’s daily routine. 

The letter arrived soon bearing the direwolf sigil. _Rickard Stark, of course,_ Stannis thought. Robert was betrothed to Lord Rickard’s young daughter at the time of his death, so it was not surprising that Lord Stark would want to offer his condolences. 

The letter was quite a few pages longer than Stannis anticipated and its contents caught him off guard – it appeared Lord Rickard was wondering if, despite his Robert’s death, there would still be a wedding between his daughter Lyanna and the Lord of Storm’s end. 

“Lord Stark wastes no time,” Stannis remarked grimly, “But he cannot seriously be expecting me to marry my late brother’s betrothed.” The very thought was repulsive to him – _lord Stark might well be offering me to lay with my brother’s widow_ \- despite the fact that Robert and Lyanna were not yet man and wife. 

“It is not uncommon for a man to wed his deceased brother’s bride,” maester Cressen began, looking at Stannis, “Or for a woman to marry a man in place of her deceased sister – in order to preserve alliance.”

 _Alliance, of course._ Robert talked about it some when Stannis saw him for the last time. Lord Rickard Stark, Lord Hoster Tully and Lord Jon Arryn appeared to be trying to create a coalition of sorts. The coalition his brother claimed to want to join, although Stannis suspected that Robert was so very eager to accept the marriage to Lord Stark’s daughter mostly because then he could claim to be brothers with Ned Stark. _He is my true brother,_ Stannis once overheard Robert’s say. Even now the words were bitter to him and Stannis scowled.  
“For example when late Lord…” it appeared, while Stannis was lost in thought, maester Cressen was still trying to convince him that marrying his deceased brother’s betrothed was acceptable. 

“Enough with the history for now,” Stannis said, getting up from the chair, “If you so insist, I shall consider Lord Rickard’s proposal.”

That night Stannis could not sleep – instead he sat in his rooms in a large chair near the fireplace trying to decide if he should accept the offer. As he watched the flames dance merrily in the chimney – and their shadows mirroring their dance on the walls, Stannis wondered if it was his duty as a lord – and as a brother – to uphold the agreement made by Robert. _Robert promised himself to Lyanna and never told me that if he was to perish I must take his place,_ Stannis thought, _Which means I should not be bound by the agreement._ Of course it was more likely that Robert did not consider that he would die before his wedding day, but Stannis tried not thinking about it. 

_Mayhaps I should support the alliance._ The alliance was clearly beneficial to the Starks, the Tullys and the Arryns – after all, it secured their borders. The Stormlands, meanwhile bordered the Reach, the Crownslands and Dorne – and none of those regions were participating in the alliance. _Perhaps I will do better by my land if I seek a wife from a neighboring region._

Stannis scoffed at his own thoughts – no Lord of Storm’s End had ever married a Tyrell or a Martell. Besides, there were no brides of suitable age in house Tyrell, that he knew. _The Princess of Dorne does have a daughter, however…_ Stannis pushed the thought out of his head – he needed to focus on the question at hand. 

His other issue with the betrothal was a bride herself. While Robert may have been charmed by Lyanna’s wild ways, Stannis did not share his sentiment. _A proper wife needs to be well-mannered, show restrained composure and be capable of running the castle._ From what he’s heard - and seen - of Lyanna Stark she was none of those things. Stannis was almost surprised that Robert agreed to the match. _Though knowing him I really should not be._

 _Mayhaps she’ll change in the future,_ Stannis pondered, _It would be foolish to commit to this betrothal based on this hope alone, however._ After all, it was entirely possible that she _doesn’t_ change – and then he will be bound to the wife who did not know how to properly run a castle or how to hold herself at court. What was worse if he were agree to this betrothal he would be committing to having children with her and she was definitely not the kind of woman he would want to see as the mother of his children. 

_The Starks have wolf blood,_ he’d heard people say before. _Robert did seem to be enticed by it._ To Stannis, however, it sounded like wold-blood meant hot-tempered and high conflict. _Wolves were not made for domestic life._

“I should life for you to write the letter to lord Stark,” Stannis told maester Cressen in the morning, “That I have considered his offer and that I would decline it.”

“My lord, I urge you to reconsider,” maester Cressen started, but stopped under Stannis’s gaze. He’s known Stannis long enough to understand when protesting was pointless. Maester Cressen got up from his chair then and bowed to Stannis, leaving the room in order to write the letter. 

Looking at the door behind which maester Cressen disappeared, Stannis wondered why the maester tried to protest his decision. _Was it because he believed that the alliance would be beneficial? Or was it because he thought I’d never find someone else to marry?_ Stannis thought grimly. 

There were no more letters coming from Winterfell to the Storm’s End once Stannis’s reply was sent to Lord Rickard Stark. The life in Storm’s End had completely resumed its habitual course - while some people were still mourning Robert, a lot were moving on. _What good does it do to dwell on the dead?_ Stannis wondered to himself. He did not know the answer – but what he did know was that his parents – and now his late brother would often spring to his mind. 

One morning, when Stannis was dealing with the matters brought before him by various petitioners, the door to his study suddenly opened. Stannis looked up to see maester Cressen looking equal parts surprised and concerned as he was carrying some parchment in his hands. 

“What is it?” Stannis asked, looking at the paper in Cressen’s hands. 

“My lord, it is a letter for you from the Princess Loreza of Dorne.”


	2. Chapter 2

“How do I look?” Elia asked, looking at herself in the mirror. The seamstress finished pinning the hem of her dress then stepped back, admiring her work. 

“As always, utterly exquisite,” Ashara Dayne said with a smile, when Elia turned around to allow her a better look of the dress, “I am certain lord Baratheon will be smitten the moment he lays eyes upon you.”

 _Not if what I heard of him is true,_ Elia thought. She had never met Stannis Baratheon before. From those who did she had heard that he is a serious, somewhat grim and stubborn man, but also that he is loyal, dutiful and very just. _That sounds almost…reassuring,_ Elia thought to herself upon hearing that, _Loyalty, dutifulness and justice are, indeed, in short supply in the Seven Kingdoms._

Perhaps that was the reason why she did not object when her lady mother suggested the idea of her marrying the lord of Storm’s End. There had never been a marriage of the Dornish prince or princess to the lord of Stormlands, but Elia did not mind. Oberyn, however, had a different opinion. 

“You cannot be considering this,” he told their lady mother upon learning of the discussion she had with Elia, “He is from _Stromalnds_ and not storm lord is a friend of ours.”

“It is time we turned away from the past and looked to the future,” Princess Loreza told Oberyn then, “It is well time for Elia to be wed, and Stannis Baratheon is the Lord Paramount of Stormlands…”

“And still beneath her,” Oberyn interrupted their lady mother ardently, “for she is a princess.”

“And if they were to find each other agreeable, I see no reason why the two of them cannot be wed,” Princess Loreza continued, ignoring Oberyn’s interjection, “If we agree on the terms and the dowry, of course.”

“There are other lords and even princes in the Seven Kingdoms,” Oberyn replied then. 

“And you have told me just that when I have spoken of betrothing Elia to Elbert Arryn,” Princess Loreza gave Oberyn a small smile, “I know you love Elia with all your heart and that to you no man will ever be worthy of your sister, but Elia will have to wed some time. I shall not waste her hand and lose alliances simply because you could not stand the thought of your sister being married to someone.”

“Doran married for love,” Oberyn said after a long pause, “Why can’t Elia?” 

“And that was a political loss to our house – we could have forged a strong alliance…But let us not speak of this any longer. I have decided – and my decision stands. I do not have to justify myself to you, Oberyn,” Princess Loreza said. 

Her brother stormed off then, slamming the door behind him. Elia was observing this argument between her brother and her mother quietly. She never liked to interfere when they got into these quarrels – both Princess Loreza and Oberyn seemed to almost derive strength from them, while Elia found them exhausting. 

“I hope,” Princess Loreza started quietly after Oberyn left, “That you do not find the idea of this marriage as disagreeable as your brother does.”

“No mother, I do not,” Elia answered with a reassuring smile. 

And she truly did not. Elia knew that it was time for her to be wed, and the lord Paramount of Stormlands – if what she’d heard about him was true – seemed like a good, wise choice to make. _Besides,_ Elia thought, _Storm’s End is but a short journey away from Sunspear and the Water Gardens by sea. I could visit my family often._

“In that case, I shall summon the seamstresses,” her lady mother told her then, “You would need new dresses for this trip.”

Now standing in front of the mirror in one of the dresses that her mother ordered for her, Elia felt highly pleased with the way she looked. _Ashara’s reassuring words helped, of course._

“I am concerned about the neckline,” Elia confessed to Ashara and Alyna Allyrion, both of whom were sitting on small chairs by the fireplace, looking at Elia, “Do you think it is too low?”

“It does not appear low,” Alyna replied, standing up to get a better look at Elia, “But if you believe so, my princess, I am sure the seamstress could add lace or gauze to conceal it.”

“Could you?” Elia turned to the seamstress. 

“Yes, Your Grace,” the seamstress said, and then went to look through the bad she brought with her. Soon enough she emerged with a piece of deep orange gauze and a few feet of bright red lace. 

“I will attach the both of them to the front of the dress, so that Your Grace can tell me which one you prefer,” the seamstress said. 

She worked quickly and soon enough Elia had first a piece of gauze then a piece of lace attached to the neckline of her dress. The dress itself was a deep shade of red, and Elia liked the orange gauze better for it. _It shall look like the colors of our house._ Ashara and Alyna seemed to agree with her, and soon enough the red lace was discarded. 

Her lady mother had ordered her quite a few new dresses, so by the time Elia was done trying all of them on, it was already past noon. Of the dozen she tried on, her favorite one was a beautiful orange and gold gown made of the finest silk that she has ever touched. 

Once the seamstress took Elia’s gowns for further alterations and left the rooms, Elia fell onto her bed. 

“I have never thought that dressing up could be this exhausting,” she complained to Ashara and Alyna. 

“Wait till your lady mother orders you twice as many dresses to choose the wedding gown from,” Alyna smiled softly.   
Elia sighed – her cousin was right, of course. _That would be exactly what mother would do._

“At court, everything is important,” Princess Loreza told her once long ago, when Elia was but a little girl, “And especially your clothes.”

“I understand that one cannot show before the king or high lord dressed in rugs,” Elia laughed upon hearing that. 

“Tis not my meaning, child,” Princess Loreza looked at her seriously, “Clothes is important because it speaks when you cannot – or will not.”

“What do you mean?” Elia asked her mother then, curious. 

“The correctly chosen gown can convey more than you think,” Princess Loreza explained, “You know that Myrish lace and the gold threads from Tyrosh are currently the most expensive materials. What do you think it means if a lady shows to court in a dress of Myrish lace, with golden threads running through it?”

“That she belongs to a rich house?” Elia asked. 

“Yes. But if you know that she does not, then you have just learned that she likely has a…paramour from one. Another thing you cold convey through your dress is your allegiance. Luckily, there is no need to search too far for an example of this – the history easily provides it. What have you learned about the Dance of Dragons, child?”

“That Princess Rhaenyra fought her half-brother Aegon II for the throne,” Elia recited the lesson that she learned from her maester. 

“And do you remember what Princess Rhaenyra’s supporters were called?”

“The blacks.”

“And king Aegon’s?”

“The greens.”

“Very well,” her lady mother smiled, “And do you know why?”

“Maester Henly said it was because the Queen Alicent Hightower wore green to the tourney, while Princess Rhaenyra wore black,” Elia said after a moment. 

“That is correct,” Princess Loreza nodded, “So now you see from the mere color of the queen’s and the princess’s gowns the title of their factions was derived.”

Elia nodded then, trying to remember everything her lady mother was telling her. Now looking back it seemed almost funny to her that things so simple seemed so confusing once. _I almost miss those simpler times._

“I hope it is not very cold in Storm’s End,” Ashara suddenly said, “And not too windy. I abhor cold wind.”

“Well you could always get married and then leave Storm’s End – and me – behind,” Elia teased Ashara. 

“I would never leave your side, not even when I am married,” Ashara told her ardently. 

“Then you would likely have to marry some lord from Stormlands,” Elia answered with a smile. 

“Small price to pay to not have to leave my princess,” Ashara told her. 

Elia looked to Alyna who was sitting on her chair quietly, clearly lost in her thoughts. Alrick Dayne, Ashara’s eldest brother had recently asked lady Delonne for Alyna’s hand – and she agreed. Elia knew Alyna was happy – the two of them have been in love for quite some time, and Elia and Ashara were surprised they did not get married half a decade ago. However, Alyna asked for the wedding to be postponed for two years. 

“I want to live with my lord husband once we are man and wife,” Alyna explained her decision to Elia, “But right now I need to be by your side. You shall be leaving Dorne for a foreign land so very soon, and, I imagine, would need your loyal companions to be with you.”

Elia smiled at the memory, her heart full of gratitude for having Ashara and Alyna by her side. 

“I have heard there’s magic woven in the very stones of Storm’s End,” Alyna said suddenly, as if waking up from her daydream, “And that that magic protects the castle from the merciless sea winds.”

_Of course she would know about history and legends._

“It better not be magic,” Ashara said, suddenly looking paler. Elia sighed – Ashara was superstitious and was terrified of magic. 

“It is not magic,” Elia said calmly, “It is much more likely that those who built Storm’s End knew certain construction techniques that have been lost to the centuries. Which is a pity.”

“Have you spoken to Oberyn yet?” Ashara asked. 

“Not yet – not since his argument with my mother,” Elia admitted, “He’s left Sunspear to go hunting, as he usually does after they quarrel.”

She appreciated the way her brother cared for her and loved him with all her heart, but even she had to admit that when it came to her prospective marriages, Oberyn would lose all sense of rationality. 

“Do you want me to be alone and unhappy?” Elia asked him when they were still children, playing in the Water Garden pools. She’d told him about the boy she liked, lord Vaith’s son, who was also with them at the Water Gardens, and Oberyn replied that he was not worthy of her. 

“No, Elia, I want you to be happy – with someone who will cherish you the way you deserve,” Oberyn told her then. 

Elia shook her head. _Some things clearly do not change. Maybe it is for the best._

She sat up on the bed and looked outside the window at the emerald groves of blood orange and pomegranate trees. _I will miss this,_ she thought, sadly. 

There was a time when she thought she could marry a Dornish lord, keep living in Dorne and have groves of blood orange and pomegranate trees in her castle’s orchard, but those times were long gone. Princess Loreza made it rather clear that she would not waster her daughter’s hand in marriage on a bannerman. And so ended Elia’s dream, since pomegranate or blood orange trees did not grow anywhere but Dorne. 

Elia felt a pang of sadness in her chest. _It is likely I will not be here by the time the new year arrives._

“Shall we take a walk in the gardens?” she asked, determinately getting off the bed. 

“I thought you were tired,” Ashara asked, clearly surprised at Elia’s new found energy. 

_I am, but I will regret not taking an opportunity when I had one._

“I am rested now. Besides, nothing could reinvigorate a person better than the beauty of Sunspear's gardens.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I've aged up Stannis by 2 years, Renly is also aged up by 2 years.

Maester Cressen’s worries were for naught. As soon as the news of the broken betrothal agreement between House Baratheon and House Stark had spread, letters started arriving from all corners of the Seven Kingdoms, with lords grand and small seeking to offer the new Lord Paramount of the Stormlands their daughters for a bride. Hearing Maester Cressen discuss new letters that arrived quite regularly, Stannis found himself quite overwhelmed. 

_Robert would never feel this way,_ Stannis, thought to himself, somewhat bitterly. _No, of course not. Robert was never overwhelmed by attention._ It was not surprising, of course – his brother was handsome, charming when he wanted to be and a complete rascal. _Although he did agree to a marriage with the Stark girl quite quickly._

If there was anything that surprised Stannis about Robert is the haste with which he entered the betrothal upon becoming the head of house Baratheon. From what Stannis knew Robert was quite popular with the ladies and did not tend to keep to the same bed. Besides, as a young and handsome Lord Paramount he could have had his pick of almost any maiden in the land, save, perhaps, for a royal princess if there was one. So it was all the more surprising to learn that he chose to become engaged to the Stark girl that soon. Robert, of course, claimed to be completely smitten by her, despite only seeing her once before for a short while. 

_Perhaps he was in a hurry to claim Ned Stark for a brother,_ Stannis thought, _After all, he did seem to be the brother Robert always wanted._ Stannis remembered seeing the two of them together when they were visiting Storm’s End a few years prior. It became clear then why Robert had so little love for him and Renly – it seemed all his brotherly affections went to Ned Stark, with none left for his blood brothers. 

_It does not matter,_ Stannis told himself firmly, _Robert is dead._

Maester Cressen took it upon himself to highlight advantages and disadvantages of any proposed match. Stannis listened attentively as Maester Cressen talked about the fact that he could still enter the alliance with houses Stark, Arryn and Tully if he agreed to marry lord Hoster’s daughter Lysa, about the potential improvement to the Stormlands’ trade if he were to wed lord Leyton Hightower’s daughter Alysanne, and about possibly securing the Reach-Stormlands border if he accepted the proposal from Lord mace Tyrell to marry one of his sisters. 

“Would you like me to write back to any of these lords so that we could arrange a visit?” Maester Cressen looked to Stannis. 

Stannis sighed. The preparation for the visit from the Dornish Princess was already annoying him, seeing as those responsible for preparations attempted to discuss all the details of the process with him. _I have other tasks to attend to, the Stormlands won’t govern themselves._

“We will decide on that after the visit from the Dornish Princess,” Stannis told Maester Cressen.

“As you wish, my lord,” the maester replied. 

Maester Cressen, of course, had previously discussed with him the potential Dornish match at length.  
“Marrying Princess Elia should improve the relationship between Stormlands and Dorne,” maester told him, “And hence secure the border. But my lord you must consider that the marcher lords might be…less than thrilled about this marriage.”

“There is a long history of animosity between the Dornish lords and them,” Stannis nodded then, “But they would live safer lives if the relationships between our lands and Dorne should improve. There is no reason for them to complain.”

“And yet it may be hard for these lords and their heirs to accept a Dornish looking lord Baratheon,” maester Cressen told him. 

Stannis scoffed. “Any legitimate son of mine will be lord Baratheon no matter what he looks like, regardless of what any of those lords think.”

“And yet this was part of the reason why your brother dismissed a Dornish match,” maester Cressen told him. 

_Of course Robert did._ Stannis knew that Robert could easily win affections of many people, but there were few whose affections he valued more than affections of others – and he was absolutely terrified of losing those people’s affections. _I wonder which of the marcher lords mattered so much to Robert?_

 _I am not my brother though,_ Stannis thought to himself, _I can and will make my own decisions regarding which match is better._

“Is this all you wanted to discuss?” Stannis asked maester Cressen. 

“Yes, my lord.”

“Very well,” Stannis said, getting up from the chair and walking out from the solar into his cabinet. 

Stannis sighed looking at the number of petitions that was piling up on his desk. _This search for a suitable bride is taking too much time away from the governance,_ Stannis thought, feeling irritated. He had not yet admitted it to himself, but deep inside he wished his search would be over soon. Stannis had hoped to find a wife who would, like his lady mother, be a proper lady of the castle and be capable in managing its everyday affairs, as the wife was supposed to. 

He sat down at the desk, picking up a pile of petitions. _I should get to work before someone comes in to attempt to discuss any more details regarding the visit of the Dornish Princess._

There was but a week left before the visit from the Dornish Princess, and all the preparations were completed. Stannis felt pleased that he would not be distracted from his work anymore, at least for a time. 

One afternoon as he had finished his work he decided to go see Renly to find out how his classes with maester Cressen were going. 

Renly was in his rooms, staring intently at the piece of paper upon which he was drawig something. Upon coming closer Stannis realized that Renly’s painting was that of the dragon. 

“Stannis!” Renly exclaimed, “Do you like my painting?”

Stannis nodded. 

“This is Balerion! King Aegon’s dragon. Maester Cressen told me all about it,” Renly continued, full of excitement, “Did you know that it was bigger than a castle? And that its teeth were the size of the horse?”

Stannis nodded along, as he watched Renly draw. Then he asked Renly a few questions about his lessons, and remained satisfied with his progress, at least in history. _He should be better at numbers by now,_ Stannis thought to himself, _I should speak with maester Cressen._

When Stannis was about to head out of Renly’s room, Renly suddenly said, “Master Cressen told me that you will be marrying some lady soon.”

“I am looking for a wife, yes,” Stannis said, turning to Renly, who was looking at him with huge blue eyes. 

“You should find one that will be pretty, and kind, and would allow me to have sweets for breakfast,” Renly said, looking away from Stannis and back to his drawing, “After all, she’ll be my be lady mother, won’t she? My old one was sweet and pretty and kind, I just know”

Shiver ran down Stannis’s spine. Renly had never mentioned their parents – not to him, not to Robert. Stannis doubted Renly even remembered anything of them; after all, he was but so young when they died. 

Taking a deep breath Stannis walked back from the door and sat on the chair next to Renly. 

“Do you remember anything about our mother?” he asked. 

“She had soft hands and she sang me the sweetest song,” Renly answered, as he continued coloring his painting. 

_She did._ Even now Stannis could hear lady Cassana’s gentle voice as she sang an old lullaby to him and Robert and Renly. 

“That she did,” he told Renly. 

“But my lady wife will not be your new lady mother,” Stannis continued after a pause.

Renly stopped coloring and looked up at him.

“She will not?”

“No – you and I both only had one lady mother, lady Cassana Estermont and we could never have another. But my lady wife will be your good-sister – and I promise she will care for you, and be gentle and kind, and yes, even sometimes allow you to have sweets for breakfast.”

“Ah,” Renly said, after a pause, “Then I would like to have a good-sister.”

Stannis could not sleep that night, as his mind kept racing, brining up the images of his parents only to later remind him of the end that his lady mother and lord father had found. At dawn Stannis gave up any attempts to sleep and headed over to the library, hoping to calm his mind. _Perhaps I should talk to Renly more often about our parents,_ he thought, _It does seem unfair that I have so many memories, so much knowledge about them and he barely has any._

It dawned fair and clear on the day that the Dornish Princess arrived to Storm’s End with her daughter. Stannis was waiting at the docks with maester Cressen to personally greet the visitors. 

Even before they stepped off of the ship, Stannis could feel the heavy, evaluating gaze of the Princess Loreza of Dorne. He was surprised – she turned out to be quite tall for a woman, but, despite he height she was graceful and was holding herself in the way that befitted a queen. Her dark eyes were looking attentively at him, as if trying to determine if he would be a suitable match for her daughter. 

Everything about Princess Elia seemed delicate – she was short and slender, but held herself no less regally than her mother. She was lovely to look at too, with the most captivating brown eyes and almost _indecently_ beautiful lips. 

Stannis shook his head. 

The man accompanying the Dornish Princesses cleared his throat, “Allow me to present Princess Loreza and Princess Elia of Dorne.”


End file.
